Façade
by Shining Zephyr
Summary: PostMGS4: Snake's last days, as seen by Meryl and the others- in which we see elements of his human side and not the badass side flashed on the battlefield. DaveMeryl FRIENDSHIP. *Day 8: Something About Love*
1. Facade

**Here's to writing fan fiction again! (LONG STORY)**

**Bleh. Spoilers for MGS4. Face-camo is "face camouflage." It's used for disguise if needed in some locations.**

**No, I don't own MGS. But like every other fan, I wish I did.**

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Facade

"How'd you convince Johnny to get out of the house?"

She smirked. "I've got ways that men seem to agree with me given any sort of circumstance. Besides, I haven't gotten to talk with you since the wedding." The grin faltered slightly. "You don't have much time left, do you?"

His head rested in his palm, eyes distant and weary. He was slightly clean-shaven, his raven hair slightly messy. The gaze was directed towards the wooden table. Music in the background was composed of a mournful melody on acoustic guitar. It seemed to give a more somber mood than either person at the table wanted. The woman's hand slipped into his.

His voice was soft, and he coughed harshly. "A month or so."

"And again, you show up with face-camo."

He looked up from the table, shrugging. "It gives me a chance to sort of escape from what little reality is left. I hate waking up and seeing what I've become over the course of nine years- old, wrinkled, gray haired." Wounded eyes gazed into worried ones. "Sort of a denial thing."

Silence for several long moments.

"I wish I wasn't a clone," he muttered bitterly.

She squeezed his hand. "So you could live longer?"

His hand clenched up slightly. He shut his eyes and allowed the face-camo to drop. She put her free hand up to her mouth in stunned disgust. The sight of her old flame with the image of a seventy-year-old man was enough to make her cringe in utter disgust. She turned away for a moment, shaking her head. "I… I had no idea that…"

He coughed harshly once more. "You won't have to see this sight for much longer," he told her before the face-camo went back up.

"But… but you're only in your early forties!" she spluttered.

He looked pained. "I know. I wish I wasn't a clone so I could see you with my real face, not this horribly disfigured clone identity."

Their hands stayed interlocked.

"I wish I could see your kids," he admitted.

She tried to smile. "You will."

He glanced away from the scene, coughing again. "I know."

And the two of them sat there in their own reality- in denial of the inevitable fate that would befall upon them in less than thirty-one days.

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**Good, bad, sad? I'd love to know! Thanks for reading!**


	2. Day 1: Coffee Shop

**At the urging of **Andi Mack, **I've decided to expand on this. Who knew I could do this friendship?**

**Thanks for reviewing** FernClaw, Andi Mack, Marie Nomad, lily moonlight, MutantLover09, SeikoTuNeR, discordchick

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_Week 1: Bitter Remembrance

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2. Day 1: Coffee Shop

"Thanks," he muttered.

She gave him a small smile. "I can't let my favorite ex-solider wilt away into nothingness, you know. Besides, I know your want to get away from Otacon is kind of strong right now. Has he been talking about anime again?"

He shrugged. "Maybe."

The waitress came out with a pot of coffee and set it between the two. He nodded his thanks and flipped over the upside down cup, allowing the woman to pour in some coffee. "At least this stuff is better than the liquor down in my basement," he tried to joke and ended up coughing in the process.

She cocked her head and sighed. "Oh, for the love of… have you stopped smoking yet?"

"Kicked the habit after I beat Liquid," he wheezed. "Might've stopped my pain right now, but I know the effects of this are long term."

"You're impossible, a bastard, and a stubborn ass, you know that?"

He laughed. "How'd you love me all those years ago?"

She shrugged, pouring herself a cup of coffee and sighing. "Your guess is as good as mine, to be honest. How the hell I managed to put up with you for a couple of months is beyond me."

Both people drank their coffee for a couple of moments. The music in the background was sad and slow once more. He was pretty sure he could pick out bits and pieces of Hebrew here and there. He wasn't fluent in the language, but he knew enough to realize that it was a depressing and sad song. He sighed. "So… you seem to be getting larger."

"You just noticed?" she asked incredulously.

He winced, as if being shot in the back and having the bullet hit Kevlar and not flesh. "Sorry."

She looked down at the table and cupped her hands around her coffee mug, shaking her head. An awkward silence followed this muttered apology, and the two people allowed the smells of the coffee shop to overcome the tension between them. He glanced down in his cup and took another drink. His voice was soft. "You know something? The face-camo kind of itches."

"Itches?"

He nodded. "You know- that one itch that you constantly scratch, but it just won't go away?"

"So then why the _hell_ do you wear it?"

The man looked at her.

She sighed and took another drink of coffee. "Yep. You're stubborn, but I didn't think you were _that_ bad."

He laughed a little. "I'll take that as a compliment, I guess."

The woman smiled a little, too. "Right. Think of it how you want, Dave."

Thirty days left- it seemed like a lifetime, but she knew it wasn't.

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**Thirty-two chapters- wow. Get ready for some angsty friendship.**


	3. Day 2: No Stopping the World

**Ahahahaha. DAMN IT. OOPS. I totally misplaced this chapter with something else. FWHEE. SORRY FOR THE EFF UP.

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_Week 1: Bitter Remembrance

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3. Day 2: No Stopping the World

She bowed her head and looked down at her cup, smiling a little as he leaned back with a cigarette and a lighter, still smoking his trouble away even after the war was over. "What'll happen when you're gone?" she asked quietly, listening to the hacking of the older man in front of her. "I mean, with wars and everything. There'll be no _Solid Snake_ to save us from nuclear threats and Metal Gears."

He leaned on the table, the smoking nicotine drifting with ashes down into the bowl in front of him. His voice was flat, quiet. "The world's going to go on. There's no stopping for heroes anymore."

"But surely they'll make a monument for you," she insisted as he coughed harder, banging his fist on the table. "You're the world's greatest-"

The brunet looked at her with those cold and blank eyes, not bothering to even try and dismantle what she had said. "Listen. I'm not. There are a hell of a lot better people out there than me. It's as simple as that. The world keeps going for heroes. People will here about it and move on." He took another sniff and sighed out a slow stream, seeing her face of defiance. "You going to fire back at me?"

Redhead growled lowly. "I just might."

"Save your breath," he muttered to himself, snuffing it out and taking a drink of his coffee. "You know you can't win against me and everything. Realize that those honored in battle are sent to go and live in the dirt for the rest of their life."

The counter woman brought over another pot of coffee as he coughed towards the floor, stamping his foot this time. She slipped a handkerchief into his hand and walked away, smiling softly to herself as he gratefully took it and nearly gagged into it. His other female friend reached out and took the gnarled fingers, stroking them softly. "C'mon. I'll tell my father about it if I have to."

He groaned. "I'm no one special. I'm a clone, a worthless body left to inhabit the earth, once a time bomb. Who the hell would go and honor a fallen hero who nearly destroyed the world with a _virus?"_

"I would," she murmured.

The older man couldn't help but smile slightly at this confession.

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**Excuse me, I'm going to go and freeze myself now…**


	4. Day 3: The Regret I Carry

**NOW you can go and hug Dave for all he's worth.**

**Thanks for those reviews **Marie Nomad, SolidSakesShadow, Andi Mack, Solid Snake's Solider, AngelSnake

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_Week 1: Bitter Remembrance

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4. Day 3: The Regret I Carry

"Say something!" she finally burst out.

He rubbed his head and coughed once more, mumbling under his breath and scowling. "Anything?"

Heads turned in their direction. He glowered at her for a split second and finally just sighed, rubbing his eyes and coughing. "Do you have any regrets, Meryl?"

She blinked at this question and turned away slightly. "That's not a happy topic for anyone to talk about," she told him softly, pushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "But if you're really curious, then yes, I do."

He waited. leaning back and taking a sip of coffee.

"I regret not being able to actually have gotten farther along with you in our relationship." She looked down and reached for a pack of sugar in the process. "We could have had such a wonderful life together, had you not had your drinking problems."

He looked exasperated. "So you're telling me everything is my fault?"

She shook her head. "Not _everything._ Only some things are your fault." She bit her lip and tried to keep her tone conversational. "What about you?"

"Too many to name off," he mumbled.

She tried to look interested, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "I know that. Is there any regret in particular that you wished had never happened? I mean… surely there is _one thing_ you wish would have never happened."

He looked thoughtful for a moment, trying to remember what he hated the most- war. His hand lay on the table, fingers tapping the desk for several moments before finally picking up his coffee and taking another drink. He coughed harshly for several seconds, taking out the handkerchief the woman gave him yesterday. She was about to get up, but he motioned her to sit back down.

After a couple more seconds, he finally got his breath and cleared his throat.

"I regret that kiss."

She looked away. "Shadow Moses?"

He shook his head, his voice rough, scratchy. "The one with Liquid."

Her eyes widened, her gaze turning back to him. "_What?!"_

"The final battle with Liquid I had a couple of months back- there was at one point when he had me in a headlock and was choking me. Then he…" He looked disgusted for a moment. "He kissed me. He planted his lip on my cheek in the middle of the headlock and kissed me." He looked out the window of the café and heaved a sigh. "Then I elbowed him in the stomach, and he let go of me."

She looked confused. "So then… why regret it?"

He looked away from the window and down at his coffee again. It needed some creamer.

"It makes me regret not having a family. Someone who would really love me."

A lump suddenly grew in her throat. "Family… what does that really mean?"

He swallowed. "I don't know. I thought you would have a better idea. You did have a father who watched over you that wasn't Roy. I had to kill mine. And my brother isn't even sane enough to know what the hell family even means." He looked frustrated. "It's just a word, but I know it means so much more."

"Your biggest regret is family?" she asked quietly.

"Always has been, always will be," he replied.

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**Oh, boy. Don't you love angst? Hey, he's going to be dead in a few weeks. Maybe something will cheer him up soon.**


	5. Day 4: Death Is Ugly

**This is becoming more and more angsty. I'm trying to ease off and failing.**

**Thanks for the kind thoughts** Andi Mack, Marie Nomad, discordchick, SolidSakesShadow, TenWings

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_Week 1: Bitter Remembrance

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5. Day 4: Death Is Ugly

It wasn't coffee today. He wanted herbal tea for some reason. She couldn't figure out why, though, as he took out the teabag with a spoon and put it on the napkin, yawning and feeling the face-camo come undone once more. She looked away out of respect for his wishes and only turned back when she heard it come back onto his features. "You seriously going to wear that when you die?"

He shrugged. "If I look like a seriously old man who should not be dead at forty-two, then probably yes."

She clenched her fist, willing herself not to shed any tears. "What are we going to do about this when you're gone, Dave? It's not fair."

"Life isn't fair," he muttered to himself.

_Closing my eyes to the sound of gunfire  
Uttering a roar  
In a flash I am switched into despair_

The words over the speaker sang softly as he tossed his cigarettes on the table and looked away from them. "Hurry up and get them out of my sight," he told her as she gave him a look of confusion.

"Otacon's been getting on my butt about it."

She gave a short laugh and sniffled, taking them off the table and sticking them into her pouch. "So… I've been meaning to ask you something for a long time." She looked down at her cup of coffee and sighed, her finger swirling on the table. "You once told me you know what death looks like. And I've been wondering- what does it really look like?"

He said nothing for a couple of moments, contemplating this question and wondering if he should really give this woman the answer. Finally, he nodded, mostly to himself. "I did once tell you I was old enough to know what it looks like. Why do you want to know?"

"You've never told me," she replied simply. "And you have seen much more death than I will ever see in my life."

Sighing, he nodded in defeat and spoke, his voice soft and pained. "Meryl. Death is like a canvas. There is only one color that Death can be painted with, and that's red. The color of blood. In a sense, someone dying is giving way to a blank piece of paper and is allowing a person to paint the picture of Hell."

She just sat there, entranced.

"Meryl, if I could paint how much death I had seen in my lifetime, there would not a place to put all the pictures I would have drawn. Too many times, I have painted the image of blood on the walls of the earth with my weapons. And it turned from something I once thought was even the slightest bit beautiful to something that look vile and repulsive." He bowed his head. "You were right."

She blinked.

"War… is ugly. There is nothing beautiful about the blood of your foes being shown to others. There's nothing grand about painting death on the walls of one's soul." He closed his eyes and coughed softly. "War… looks like shit."

The music played mournfully once more.

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**So, if you can get the italic words in the middle of the one-shot, I'mma give you a cookie and something more. Anyways, more coming soon.**


	6. Day 5: Aging

**Dang, a late entry. Happy early Thanksgiving, and enjoy the short drabble!**

**Thanks for those reviews** discordchick, Marie Nomad, SolidSakesShadow, Neroshin, Saiph Nebula

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_Week 1: Bitter Remembrance

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6. Day 5: Aging

"What's the worst part about growing old?" she questioned, keeping her tone as light as possible. "I mean, I know it's the graying hairs and other wrinkles in the skin, but there's gotta be more than that."

Rubbing his hands together and casting the woman a look for a moment, he shrugged. "I get senior discounts on everything, if that's what you're implying."

Her shoulders sagged. "You're not even forty-five! And yet you can go around and act like you're some old and decrepit man and get all the discounts in the world if you wanted to, Dave!" She had a sort of jealous look in her eyes. "Lucky person."

"I might have lied a few times in my life, but I'm not stupid enough to lie about my age anymore," he confessed. "People usually guess my age correct when I wear the face-camo now. Kind of funny, in a morbid sort of way." He scratched his nose and coughed. "And yet Otacon still asks me if I could look like I'm a senior so we could pay less for my meal."

She giggled. "What do you do then?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I still tell him to grow a beard, dye it gray, and make his voice sound really old and like hell. He tried that once and- well, he failed."

"How badly?"

"He couldn't talk for the rest of the week because his voice was so sore from speaking at my level." The man actually gave a chuckle and took a drink of his tea. "I had to care for him in bed for a couple of days with Sunny. That was one hell of an experience."

That got another much-needed laugh into the air.

Finally, after taking a couple of deep breaths, she winced and placed a hand on her stomach. He watched this and spoke once more, this time sounding perfectly serious. "It's getting to be time, isn't it?"

She nodded.

"I've got some chocolate at my house. You know I can bring it for you tomorrow." He leaned back in his chair. "Lord knows women get addicted to that when they get exceedingly cranky." He frowned. "I should have gotten that for you those years back- a huge slab of chocolate to soothe your soul."

She sighed. "Dave…"

"I know, Meryl. But it would've made me feel better."

She glanced at him in surprise.

"And I probably wouldn't have gotten half of those gray hairs in 2007."

That got him a well-placed scowl and a light smack on the hand. He smiled gently, indicating the tease. Her face softened up into a warm smile.

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**-stares at faves and alerts- I must be doing something right. THANKS, YOU GUYS! -glomp-  
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**Did it happen?! Was it actually slightly funny? I hope so. Thanks for reading!**


	7. Day 6: To Love Another

**I'm working on it, I'm working on it. XD**

**Thanks for reviewing** Marie Nomad, Salph Nebula, Theoden, Solid Snake's Soldier, Wolf.82, SolidSakesShadow

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_Week 1: Bitter Remembrance

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7. Day 6: To Love Another

"You looked beautiful on your wedding day, you know," he told her quietly, smiling a little.

She blushed, shaking her head. "Not another attempt to woo me, I hope."

He shrugged now, casting a dark glance over her shoulder. Clouds were beginning to form on the horizon- gray ones, those of a thunderstorm. He turned back to her and leaned back, shaking his head. "You and I both know that we can't hold a candle to charm now. You've got Johnny protecting you and your soon-to-be kid."

"Joy," she replied dryly. "I can't have ten minutes with him alone because of that bladder of his."

"Hey, you picked him, sweetheart. Not me."

She rolled her eyes and gave a short nod in his direction, taking a drink of coffee and wincing, remembering she had failed to douse it in cream and sugar. "Yes, I did pick him. You'd be too hard to put up with over the next few years, you know."

He contemplated this as she grabbed the sugar and a spoon and began to measure her usual three tablespoons of sugar and took a sip of his tea, clenching the glass to make sure he wouldn't cough. (Or so he seemed to think) "What's it like?"

His companion looked up, slightly confused.

"To be married. How does it feel for you to love someone and know that you found the perfect person for the rest of your life?"

She pursed her lips, the thunder rolling outside the café. "It's… different. I can't really describe it. Love is like trying to describe perfection. It just doesn't come really easily." She laughed. "I thought you and I would be perfect after the FOXHOUND Rebellion, but- we both know what happened there."

He groaned. "A lot of crap that was probably my fault."

She shook her head. "Not necessarily everything was your fault, though. I did contribute to the factor of breaking up, even if I didn't admit it at the time." Her voice became soft. "We were both trying to find ourselves. We both knew it together. Sure, we might not be in love, but we're friends. Deep friends."

"Yeah," he mumbled.

The gentle patter of rain hummed and allowed for the two to sit in their sorrows of love.

He reached into his pocket and felt around, smiling a little and pulling out a chocolate bar, tossing it in her direction. "Think of this as a belated wedding gift and an early baby shower gift from an old hired killer. You know how hard Ghirardelli is to come by now?"

She reached over in shock. "You could have sold this at a freakin' auction and gotten a lot more money for yourself!"

"Yeah, well- I figured our friendship and time together is worth a lot more than one hundred bucks spent on a bar of chocolate."

The woman glanced at the war-weary soldier and smiled, shaking her head tearfully. "You're so damn stubborn for someone of your age. And yet right now, I'm _really _glad that streak is still there."

He reached over and took her hand, giving a small smile. "Giving you chocolate for your woes was one mission I didn't ever intend on backing out on."

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**Moral of the story: Chocolate and love make everything better. Oh, and hanging out with a guy whose voice sounds like a deity from above helps too. Hopefully, you're liking these things still, despite crap updates. Thanks for reading!**


	8. Day 7: Imperfections

**Meh. Sorry about this. Didn't forget about it- just didn't know what to do with this one. Let's have some more angst. *bitter laugh***

**Thanks for reviewing** AngelSnake, Sparoe, saiph nebula, Marie Nomad, Wolf.82

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_Week 1: Bitter Remembrance

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8. Day 7: Imperfections

"You remember how you told me to look in the mirror that day on the island?" she asked, staring into the koi pond below and offering a wry grin in his direction.

He leaned against the bridge railing and shrugged as best he could, taking in deep breaths of the clean air and allowing the breeze to kiss his face. "How could I forget? You had one of the cutest butts I had ever seen."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, grinning slightly. "My eyes, my butt, everything you ever loved about me had to deal with the body. But never mind about that- you told me to take a long hard look at myself before we went and faced Mantis. And that day I really started to see myself, I saw a lot of things that were wrong with me."

He offered his own sincere smile. "What do you mean? Besides your recklessness, what the heck is wrong with you?"

"I didn't have any make-up, number one. And number two, I thought I was living a lie. I didn't know then if I wanted to be a soldier or not; sort of this identity crisis idea, you know?" She rubbed her head and leaned back against the railing herself, facing her ex-lover. "And now that I think about it, you never told me what you saw in the mirror."

The ex-mercenary shrugged. "Didn't know you cared."

She forced herself to not grumble in exasperation.

He reached out and took her hand, glancing up from the pond and staring for what seemed to be an eternity. "Nine years ago, I didn't look in the mirror that day. I had no idea what I really was, either. All I recognized was that I had to do a job and that I planned on doing it. If I died, so be it. But we both know that wasn't in the plan."

"What do you see now?"

He gave a short laugh. "A damn lot of imperfections, if you ask me. A killer. A biological time bomb. A man who can't pick up a date anywhere. A mistake from the 1970's. An inferior clone of the greatest soldier to live on this planet. An ex-mercenary. I could go on and on about what I finally see myself as now, but that would waste both my air and yours."

She cocked her head. "You love to see people's wrongs, don't you? Especially your own."

"Meryl, there are a lot of things that are bad and wrong with me, not a lot that are good," he replied bitterly, looking back down at the pond. "Let's face it- the infamous Solid Snake is nothing more than a heap of flaws that a surrogate mother produced. All that I learned had absolutely nothing to do with my genes. It had to do with those who taught me what to do on the battlefield, none of that gene therapy crap." He placed his chin on his palm. "And I only had two siblings- one of which was the president of our country and the other was a psychotic blond who wanted to rule the world and destroy us all."

She sighed and shook her head. There were only three weeks left until his passing, and already, they were looking bleak.

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**Oh, come on. Cut me a little slack. I took them outside. Don't worry, I'm getting more people into this in the later chapters. Don't fuss, I know what I am doing. *nuzzles* Did you like it?**


	9. Day 8: Something About Love

**Okay, I have a confession to make. I screwed up. Chapter 3 is REALLY short now, and I take full blame for that because I was switching something in Chapter 2 and made it Chapter THREE. OOPS. So I went and did a little scrap for Chapter 3. I'M SOWWIE. *cries***

**Here. Have some slight romantic tendencies. I'm working on it. Well, trying to.**

**Um, thanks for reviewing** Saiph Nebula, Epyon7, Strikeman EXE, Lady_Snake

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_Week 2: Little Bits of Sunlight

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9. Day 8: Something About Love

She walked in early that morning, but she was surprised to already see him there, and at the bar counter no less. He had a glass in his hand, and when he turned around, there was clearly something in his eyes that she had not seen in nine years. They were dulled beyond measure, out of tune with everything happening in the world. He took another sip of the drink and put it down, grunting slightly. "Why you here so early?"

"You've been drinking!" she accused in response, slipping in next to him and placing a hand on his arm and giving it a not-so-gentle squeeze. "It's eight-thirty in the morning! Why the hell do you need a shot and however many glasses you had?!"

Clearly the brunet was unfazed with her verbal lashing. He took a look at her and leaned over close to her ear, his alcohol breath hot on her skin. "You're pretty," he whispered, moving closer. "We should get together some time."

She bit her lip. Lord only knew how many he had to be this bad in the morning. And no one had any clue how he had managed to do it so damn fast as well. She pushed him away and growled lowly, narrowing her eyes and moving father from him and the table. "You're hitting an all new low," she hissed. "Cut the crap and have some tea!"

He licked her lips, following her. "C'mon, babe…"

Suddenly, she slapped him hard across the face. The resounding crack was heard throughout the entire morning diner, and she sat there, staring at him the most awful look on her features. One couldn't really discern whether it was hating love or just annoyed sympathy for the drunken ex-mercenary she used to date. "Get a grip. What are you thin- oh wait. You're _not_ thinking! Clearly, all that booze went to that brain faster than anything I could have possibly imagined in my whole damn life!"

He felt his cheek, which was currently screaming out pain sensors all over the body. In he breathed, clearly realizing something had happened, something went wrong. He looked up at her, still holding the skin and looking as dull as before. The cloudiness wasn't disappearing at all, but at least he was able to form a slightly coherent sentence. "Why'd you do that?"

She sank into the chair, the counter lady bringing over a coffee and creamer. The redhead itched her head, looking for a suffice answer for the one now simply giving her the biggest puppy dog eyes one could possibly offer. Even if it did mean those blue orbs were totally overshadowed by a drunken fool. "You were coming on to me. You know I'm married. It's never going to work between us."

"So why'd you slap me out of it?" he asked simply.

She opened her mouth to offer a retort but shut it moments later with a surprised look on her features. The waitress timidly gave him a tea, which he grabbed is if it were more scotch and tried to down it all. This worked to no avail, and the man slammed the glass down with a shoulder-shaking cough. She leaned forward to give him aid, but he shook his head, nearly hacking up- for lack of a better term- a lung. It took a good three minutes, but finally he was good enough to speak once more. "You've never had the balls to slap anyone but me. Why?"

She bit her lip. "I… I'm not sure. Call it one of those things that lovers do, I- guess?"

He weakly chuckled, albeit slurred. "You're marriiiiied."

"I know. And I'll always care for you and worry about you."

She stood up and walked over next to him, wrapping an arm around his slumped shoulders. He took another sip of his tea, still slightly intoxicated.

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**YEAH, I MADE HIM DRUNK. At an early hour. Sorry if it's not plausible at all. Don't rip into me for that… but I know I'm going to get it. *sighs* 'scuse me, I'm going to bed.**


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